


lay this curse down and tell me otherwise

by alldaydream



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:33:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24627868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alldaydream/pseuds/alldaydream
Summary: David Rose refuses to believe in soulmates, especially the ones with loud eyes and warm smiles.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Stevie Budd & David Rose
Comments: 54
Kudos: 298





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's always when I'm trying to finish a full length when I get a sudden burst of energy to write something else. This has been in my drafts folder for months so I'm glad I got to finish it.
> 
> My take on a soulmate AU

When David Rose first heard about the soulmate mark that would eventually appear somewhere on his arm, he searched obsessively for the person who would one day bear its twin. Not that he had any way of really knowing who it was, but after years of pouring over every romantic comedy to exist, he naively thought that he would just _know_ , that he would have the same earth shattering moment of realization all of his favorite romcom heroes also had. 

But his naivety let him trust the wrong people, fell so hard for so many people that he was left to pick up the broken pieces of himself alone. 

So when the mark eventually appeared on the inside of his left wrist on his 25th birthday, David looked down at it with disdain. 

_A curse_ , he thought to himself. A cruel reminder that eventually, everyone leaves. 

So he fell into bed with whoever he deemed worthy instead, hoping his charm, his money and his looks would be enough to keep them, soulmate be damned. 

But none of that matter because everyone always left, with and without their own marks. 

So the semicircle with a dot in the middle on his wrist was ignored and replaced with temporary relief. Anything money could buy him. 

Eventually he forgot that there was someone out there waiting for him.

\\\\\

David rubs his temples as he stares down at the financial report of his gallery. He may not understand everything that is on the paper, but he knows enough to know his gallery isn’t doing well. 

“We may have to cut come costs for next week’s exhibit,” Stevie says flipping through various papers. “Can you survive if we don’t serve Dom Pérignon?” 

David waves his hand at her with dismissal, Stevie rolling her eyes and standing up from her seat. “David, I really think you should call him.”

“No,” David replies stubbornly, crossing his arms across his chest and sitting back in his chair. “I’m not that desperate.”

“You should be based on those numbers,” Stevie says indicating to the report. “What’s one little phone call going to do to you?”

“Um, destroy my dignity?”

“You don’t have much to begin with so will you really be losing much?” Stevie replies with a smirk and David throws an empty coffee cup at her head. “I’m not picking that up,” Stevie says across her shoulder as she walks out of his office. 

David tips his head back and closes his eyes tightly. David opens his drawer and takes out a business card. It’s white stock, initials printed neatly on the front in blue elegant letters. David lets out a frustrated groan and throws the card back into the drawer and slams it shut. 

He’s in trouble. His gallery needs professional help.

But there is no way in hell he’s calling Patrick fucking Brewer. 

\\\\\

Patrick Brewer was mean. He was a mean, mean man in blue dress shirts and mid-range denim that told David his business was failing. 

And although he wasn’t wrong, he could have been nice about it at least. 

Two months ago, during a fit of desperation, David had reached out for help, finding Patrick through a quick internet search and booking an appointment with him, all the paperwork for his gallery stuffed into a black tote bag. 

David told Patrick about the gallery and what he envisions to accomplish, but when Patrick had asked him questions about the logistics of the business, David shut down, unable to answer any of Patrick’s questions. 

_“You need to put in the work, David. You can’t hope that everything just comes together as if by magic. Come back once you have a better sense of your business.”_

But David never did go back. Instead he left several, albeit slightly surly voicemails and never contacted Patrick Brewer again. 

Because he’s mean. He’s a mean, mean man.

\\\\\

David is tapping his fingers on his desk as he waits for Patrick Brewer to pick up his phone. His hands are clammy and his heart rate is higher than normal, but other than that he’s fine. 

He’s about to hang up when that infuriatingly calm voice answers. 

“ _Hello, this is Patrick speaking._ ”

“Hi,” David says, his voice high and breathy, before clearing his throat. “Hi, David, it’s Patrick,” David says and immediately smacks his forehead. “Fuck, I mean David. David Rose.”

Patrick laughs on the other line, “ _Hi, David,_ ” Patrick says on the other line. “ _What a pleasant surprise. I didn’t expect to hear back from you._ ”

“Yes well,” David says awkwardly. “Circumstances have changed.”

“ _Mhm. I believe, as per your last voicemail, you would never be caught dead taking business advice from a stuck up, pencil pushing ass-_ ” Patrick says with a teasing lilt in his voice before David abruptly cuts him off. “Okay, I don’t think we need to get into that.”

Patrick chuckles which makes David squirm in his seat. “ _What can I do for you David?_ ”

David squeezes his lips together and closes his eyes, the harsh pulses of his migraine beginning to take over. 

“ _David?_ ”

“I need help,” David blurts out, his throat tight. He slumps back into his chair and rubs his face with his hand. “I need help,” he repeats weakly. 

It’s quiet on the other end and David thinks for a moment that Patrick hung up, until his voice softly says, _“I can help you David. Why don’t you come by my office tomorrow at 9?”_

“Mhm, yes, that sounds okay. But um actually,” David says clenching and unclenching his fist. “Can we make it 10? I’m not really a morning person.”

Patrick chuckles again, the warmth in his voice making David uncomfortable. _“Sure, 10am sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow, David.”_

“Okay,” David breathes out. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

David hangs up the phone and sets it down on his desk, leaning back in his chair, tipping his head back and staring up at the ceiling. 

“Fuck.”

\\\\\

Patrick Brewer’s eyes are too open and too earnest for David, causing him to shift in his chair. 

“I’m glad you decided to come back David,” Patrick says with a gentle smile. 

“Yes, well, no harm in asking for help,” David replies stiffly. 

Patrick nods his head and looks down at the papers on his desk. “I can help you formulate a plan to cut some of your costs. I know you enjoy throwing extravagant parties-”

“They’re more like cultural events,” David interjects. 

Patrick cocks an eyebrow at him, but grins wider. “Sure, cultural events, but some of these expenses seem unnecessary. For example, did you really need a live ice sculptor at your last exhibit?”

“The artist requested it,” David replies. “Said it was needed in order to fully encapsulate the exhibit.”

“And the live DJ?”

“Also a special request.”

“Right,” Patrick says clasping his hands together and leaning back in his chair. “You seem to enjoy catering to everyone’s whims.”

David tenses up and clenches his fists tightly. “I do it for the art and for my gallery. I refuse to cut corners and compromise on anything less than perfection.”

Patrick’s eyes soften and he leans forward. “David, you’re losing money.”

“I’m aware of that, which is why I’m here. Asking for help. Although all you’ve done so far is insinuate that I’m spineless,” David spits out.

“I’m telling you the truth David. Something these people clearly didn’t do as you allowed them to take advantage of you,” Patrick hits back, and his words hurt too much for David to stand for much longer. 

“This was a mistake,” David murmurs to himself as he stands up. “If the gallery closes, it closes. But I won’t tolerate someone making a mockery of me.”

“I’m trying to make you see David,” Patrick says also standing up. “You are more than capable of running a successful business, but you’re allowing yourself to be run over by these people because you’re so eager to make them like you!”

“Enough,” David barks out, reaching down to grab his bag. “I’m done.”

David stomps out of Patrick’s office, his eyes filling with tears, his heart lurching from his chest. 

_Fuck him. Fuck them all._

\\\\\

David is tipsy. Or he’s drunk and telling himself he’s tipsy. Either way, he’s on his 7th shot of vodka and gesturing the bartender for his 8th. 

After his disastrous late morning meeting with Patrick, David went back to his gallery and sent Stevie home for the day. After stewing in his office for an hour, he locked the doors, shut off the lights and walked around the space, sitting down in the middle of the gallery, surrounded by the bright white walls that were currently empty of any art in preparation for his next exhibit. 

He sits there until it’s dark out and instead of filtering through his phone to find someone to drink with, David decides to go to the bar by himself, drowning away his sorrow in solitude. 

Fuck Patrick Brewer. Fuck him and his business sense and his earnest eyes. Because as much as David hates to admit it, he’s right. David is always saying yes with the hope that they’ll choose to stay. 

When he first opened up his gallery five years ago, throwing money was easy. It seemed like he was in an endless pit of it. Until he found out the reason for all of his financial success was because of his parents, funneling money through his patrons, keeping his gallery afloat. And in a fit of rage, he forbade his parents from interfering ever again, needing to prove to them that he could do this on his own without their help. 

Except in the year he’s run the gallery without their help, it has become painfully obvious that David can’t do this on his own. 

David groans out loud and lets his head thunk down onto the bar. 

He has to sell it. Start over, do something else. Something he won’t fail at. 

_Anything, please_ , David thinks to himself pathetically as he feels the tears beginning to sting the corner of his eyes. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” A voice next to him says and David raises his head slowly and meets the eyes of Patrick fucking Brewer. 

“Seriously?” David asks incredulously. 

Patrick shrugs his shoulders and jams his hands into his pockets. “This bar is around the corner of my place. And it looks like you need some company.”

“What I need is a handle of Tito’s and some of my mother’s xanax,” David replies turning his face away. “Care to tell me more about how I’m a failure?”

“David, you’re not a failure,” Patrick says taking a seat on the stool next to David. “I was trying to help you see that your current business practices are incredibly destructive.”

“Yeah, well, no need to try and enlighten me anymore,” David says waving his hand flippantly. “I’ve decided to sell it.”

Patricks visibly sags and runs a hand on his face. “I didn’t want it to come to that.”

“Well it has,” David says. “It’s for the best. I’m not meant to run a business.”

“Why did you open up the gallery in the first place?” Patrick asks suddenly and David rears back in shock. 

“Um, because I enjoy curating an exclusive collection of art that creates an immersive, visual experience?” David replies. 

“No,” Patrick says shaking his head. “Why did you open up your gallery?” Patrick asks again more firmly, his eyes set on David’s.

David looks away and stares in front of him, his eyes fixated on a bottle of Jack Daniels. 

“Because I wanted to make something beautiful,” David says quietly. “I wanted to make something special. Something important.”

“You can do that,” Patrick says softly. “You can make something beautiful.”

David turns his face towards Patrick, his breath hitching as Patrick looks at him with those too loud eyes again. He’s looking at David as if he means what he says, as if he does think David is capable of creating something good in this world. 

And for a moment, David lets himself believe that. But before that good feeling can manifest into something stronger, David pushes it away, the hurt in his life slamming into him. 

“I have to go,” David says, standing up from his stool and throwing bills onto the bar. 

He doesn’t dare look at Patrick again, afraid of that good feeling latching onto him again, making him feel something he has long since abandoned. 

\\\\\

When David’s soulmate mark appeared on the inside of his wrist on his 25th birthday, David looked down at it with disdain. 

He couldn’t get someone to stay longer than 3 months, how was he supposed to believe someone would stay with him for a lifetime?

The mark meant nothing to him. It was a game, a trick.

His parents got lucky, he thinks to himself as he watches their love through the years. They were the exception. The ones who got it easy. 

But when David says this aloud one evening, sitting on their bed as he watched his mother got ready for an annual gala, her eyes pierced his through the vanity mirror. 

_“David, nothing comes easy,”_ she said. 

_“It does if you have enough to give,”_ David replied back. _“Besides, I don’t want this,”_ he said showing his mark. _“I don’t want this curse.”_

_“It’s not a curse, David,”_ his mother said. _“It’s a gift. A gift of knowing that there is someone out there who sees you for all that you are.”_

_“It won’t last,”_ David said shaking his head. _“Nothing lasts.”_

\\\\\

Stevie is looking at him with her dark gaze the next morning as he tells her about the gallery’s closure. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” David replies grimly. “I’m sorry, Stevie. I promise, I’ll keep paying you until you find another job-” But Stevie waves him off before he can continue. “No, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I can find something else.”

David nods stiffly and looks down at his hands. “I’ve cancelled next week’s exhibit. And an agent will be here on Thursday to assess the property.”

Stevie nods her head sighs deeply. “I’m sorry David.”

“It’s fine,” David says shaking his head. “It was bound to happen eventually.”

“What are you going to do now?” She asks. 

David shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know. Travel maybe? Alexis is in Seoul so maybe I’ll go and visit her for a while,” David says, thinking about the last text Alexis sent him last night about the rave she went to in Itaewon. 

“And after that?” Stevie asks, her tone pushing him to say what he’s really thinking. 

“Start over, I guess,” David replies. “Do something else.”

“Any ideas?” Stevie asks, propping her feet on David’s desk even though she knows he hates that. But seeing as though he just laid her off, he can’t bring himself to push her feet off as he normally would. 

“No, I’ll think of something eventually,” David replies, opening up his bottom drawer and taking out a bottle of vodka. “You in?”

“Yup,” Stevie says nodding her head and David pours them both a generous amount into two paper coffee cups. He hands Stevie one and raises his cup. “To failing at business.”

“To moving on to something greater,” Stevie replies with a pointed look and David rolls his eyes. “I don’t like it when you’re supportive.”

“Me neither,” she says and taps her cup against his. 

\\\\\

David is sealing up the last box from his office when Patrick Brewer walks in, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, his head ducked down low. “Hi.”

“Um, how did you get in here?” David asks, crossing his arms. 

“Your assistant let me in, said I could find you in here packing away the last bits of your embittered soul. She then left to go on her coffee break,” Patrick replies with a wry smile. 

“Okay, why are you here?” David asks tiredly. 

Patrick looks away and if it were possible, shoves his hands deeper into his pockets. “I came to see how you were?”

“Why?” David asks confused. 

“Because I care,” Patrick murmurs. “I just felt the need to come and check up on you.”

“Well I’m doing fine, as you can see,” David gestures to his empty office. “So you can scurry back to your little office while I try to pick up the pieces of my shattered self confidence.”

“David, I really meant what I said that night. I do believe you’re capable of creating something special,” Patrick says taking a step forward. “You just need to believe in yourself more-”

“What an incredibly novel idea. I’ll take your advice to heart, thank you so much,” David says rushing past him, unable to share a space with Patrick fucking Brewer for a second longer. 

“Dammit David! I’m trying to help you!” Patrick says following after him. 

“Why?” David asks, turning around sharply, crossing his arms across his chest protectively. 

“I don’t know! I just feel like I need to help,” Patrick says frustratedly, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t explain it.”

David’s eye zero in on the movement, momentarily mesmerized by his strong hand raking through neatly trimmed auburn hair. But then his breath rushes out of him as he sees the inside of Patrick’s wrist. 

If Patrick’s sleeves weren’t rolled up to his elbows, David never would have seen it. He could have spent the rest of his life in quiet denial about the soulmate he would be glad to never meet. 

“I think I have an idea why,” David chokes out.

David pulls up the sleeve of his Givenchy sweater with shaky fingers, Patrick giving him a bizarre look until David turns over his wrist, presenting the same semicircle with a dot in the middle that mirrors the one he has. 

“Oh,” Patrick replies quietly and looks up at David with an unreadable expression. 

“Oh,” David repeats and stares at the person the universe seemingly chose just for him. 

\\\\\

When David was 27, he thought for a moment that he had found someone to share his life with despite all of his previous heartbreak. Her name was Cara, a beautiful singer he met in a jazz club down by Houston St. She was kind and smart and funny and loved dollar pizza as much as David. And when she sang, David could never get himself to look away. 

She was different from anyone he had ever met before. He felt safe with her. Felt almost human.

Her mark hadn’t shown up yet, so David let himself fall, believing that he could convince her to stay no matter what would eventually appear on her arm.

But on a January night in the middle of a fight by Columbus Circle, a tiny star appeared at the base of her thumb and and she looked up at him with quiet remorse. Every good memory vanished in that moment between them as she made the decision to find her mate, leaving David standing by himself in the frigid air.

He hated that. He hated that he lost a person, not because of anything he had done, but because some twisted force in the universe told her he could never be what she needed. 

_I’m not enough_ , he thought time himself on the long walk back to his apartment. 

\\\\\

“We need to fix this,” David says, walking quickly back to his office, Patrick right behind him. 

“David, wait-”

“We need to fix this, right now. I have to make calls-”

“David!” Patrick shouts and David stops moving immediately, his eyes wide on Patrick. 

“Just, just wait a minute,” Patrick says roughly. “I just, I’ve been waiting for this moment, for a long time and now I’ve found you and I just need a minute to process,” he says, his eyes wild. 

David nods slowly and Patrick lets out a harsh breath, his eyes still on David, but softening as he really takes him in. “I’ve been looking for my soulmate. I never thought I would find you.”

David looks away and says, “Yes, well, we’ll fix that immediately.”

Patrick stiffens. “What do you mean?”

“I mean we’re going to sever our tie,” David says walking back to his office. “I just have to make some phone calls, but we should be able to do it by the end of the week-”

“David, _wait_ ,” Patrick says sharply and David stops talking, turning to look at Patrick in shock. Patrick is breathing heavily, his eyes wild, his hands shaking. “What do you mean, ‘sever our tie’?” He asks with a leveled voice. 

David crosses his arms. “Exactly that. We’re going to sever our soulmate bond.”

“And why would we do that?” Patrick asks and David gapes at him. 

“You can’t be serious,” David says, his eyebrows furrowing closely together. “We can’t be soulmates!”

“Why not?” Patrick pushes and David makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. 

“Because it’s all bullshit!” David says. “It’s a false sense of reality, romanticized trickery that traps people together. It’s a curse,” David spits out. “It’s a terrible curse and I want nothing to do with it.”

Patrick is looking at David quietly, his eyes intense and David can’t bring himself to look back at him any more because it’s like looking into the sun. 

“What if I don’t want to sever it?” Patrick asks quietly. 

David swallows hard and squeezes his eyes shut. “You can’t be serious,” David replies. “Trust me, you don’t want me as your soulmate,” David says, uncrossing his arms and adjusting his sweater. “This is for the best.”

Patrick is quiet again and David shifts awkwardly from one foot to another. 

“You want to sever the tie?” Patrick asks again. 

“Yes,” David says without hesitation. 

“From what I know, the only way to sever it is if both parties agree,” Patrick says taking a step towards David. “And I can tell you right now David Rose, I don’t agree and I don’t think I ever will.”

David looks at Patrick with shock. “Why not?” David demands. 

“Because there’s a reason why you were chosen for me and I can’t give that up,” Patrick says shaking his head. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long now, David,” Patrick says, his eyes bright. 

“This is what I’m talking about!” David says, waving his hands around. “The curse has you convinced that _this_ ,” David says gesturing between them, “is a good idea.” David sighs roughly and rakes his hands through his hair. “Soulmates don’t exist.”

Patrick shakes his head and smiles sadly at David. “Not with that attitude,” Patrick says and walks out of the gallery, leaving David alone to his thoughts. 

\\\\\

Severing the soulmate tie is uncommon, but doable. There are just some circumstances that cannot survive by the mere bond between two hearts and some have turned to cutting their connections off in order to move forward with their lives. Wars, illness and even greed have driven souls to rejecting their tie and choosing to live without them.

A fairly simple process. Just a simple spell murmured over raised hands and the bond is snipped in two, like a piece of golden thread. 

Only few are able to recite the spell because there is no real demand for it. Except for the truly desperate. 

Which is why David has been ready with his plan for several years now, just waiting for the day his soulmate to show up so he can stop it before it consumes his life. 

If only his mate could understand. 

\\\\\

David contacts Patrick every day for a week, leaving several voicemails with reasons as to why Patrick is better off without David every time his phone calls go unanswered. 

_“I noticed some sports balls in your office during our last meeting. Just to let you know, I think team sports are tacky and do not enjoy them.”_

_“I have an exorbitant amount of clothing, like it’s excessive, which means you will have absolutely no closet space with me. None. Zilch. And many of my pieces are cashmere which means only hand washing with cold water. Are you ready to do that during the winter?”_

_“My feet are always cold. I once had a guy break up with me because I accidentally nudged him with my feet when we were sleeping. He literally left me in the middle of the night and told me to wear socks, which no, socks in bed are absolutely incorrect.”_

_“My family is the worst. Are you prepared to spend time with them? Google them, like now. That should be enough to keep you far, far away. My mother will never get your name correct.”_

But Patrick continues to ignore his phone calls and instead texts him his responses:

_“I don’t care if you don’t like baseball, David. Although I have a feeling I can reel you into watching a game with me if I promised you snacks.”_

_“I have 7 shirts and 4 pairs of pants, I think I’ll be okay. And I don’t mind helping you hand wash your knits, as long as you help me wash my long johns during the winter.”_

_“That guy was a moron if he left a bed with_ you _in it. Also, my mother knits us wool socks every year for Christmas. I won’t make you wear them in bed though.”_

_“I know all about your family. I actually used to work at a Rose Video when I was in high school. I watched all those training videos with your mom and I want to meet her so she can call me whatever she wants.”_

David is at the point of almost ripping his hair out when Stevie stops by his apartment with a very large bottle of wine and he nearly cries at the sight of it. 

“You have a large collection of incredibly expensive wine David,” Stevie says as she watches him take a large gulp. 

“Yeah, but sometimes you just need to drown in the cheap stuff because it hits you differently,” David says, topping off his glass again. 

“So,” Stevie says taking a seat in his armchair. “How’s your soulmate.”

“Insufferable,” David replies, sprawling himself dramatically over his couch. “He won’t listen to reason.”

“And what is that?”

“That soulmates don’t exist and we’re better off without each other,” David replies staring up at his ceiling. 

“He still won’t answer your calls?”

“No,” David says frustratedly. “And he’s even resorted to sending me memes. _Memes_ Stevie!”

Stevie stifles a laugh behind her glass of wine. “Are they funny?”

David turns his head and blinks at her before looking away again. “That’s not the point,” he grumbles. 

“David, why can’t you just admit that _maybe_ this whole soulmates this isn’t that bad after all. The universe could have done much worse,” Stevie says. 

David scoffs and goes quiet, because despite his rather loud objections, his mind _has_ wandered into the realm of what would happen if he did just choose to accept this, accept them. Because for the first time ever, someone is fighting for David, to be with him. And he’s just not used to that. 

“Because he’ll leave eventually,” David says. “Right now he thinks this is a good idea. But down the road, when it’s too late for me, he’ll be gone too. Might as well rip the bandaid now.”

Stevie regards him quietly, a sad smile on her face. “Sebastien is wrong, David.”

David tenses up, swallowing thickly and closing his eyes. “Well, of course he is,” David says, finishing his wine and pouring himself some more. “This has nothing to do with him.”

\\\\\

Sebastien Raine took a lot from David. His money, his clout, his time and saddest of all, his self worth. 

He came out of nowhere and swiftly knocked David off his feet when he was 24, believing so fiercely that he could feel his soulmate was near. And Sebastien somehow convinced David that it was him. 

So David’s life revolved around Sebastien, letting him use him to get into every club, party and exhibit, and then using his warm body at night only to leave him cold by the morning. 

David used everything he had to keep Sebastien, until he had nothing else to give. 

And just on the brink of David’s 25th birthday, Sebastien had left him. Not empty handed of course. He took one of David’s friends and a collection of private photos with him, deeming David, “too difficult to move forward with.” Unlovable. Unwanted. 

“ _If you have any chance of convincing someone to stay,_ ” Sebastien said as he left David’s apartment. “ _Try to at least give them a reason to want to._ ”

And when his mark appeared, it felt like a burn, his skin branded with Sebastien’s words echoing in his head, mocking him for thinking anyone would want David Rose. 

\\\\\

On the second week of not contact, David stomps into Patrick Brewer’s office, pointing a finger at him and saying, “Stop ignoring me.”

“I’m not ignoring you David,” Patrick says leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “I’m just giving you space to process our predicament.”

“My thoughts have been processed, thank you so much,” David replies haughtily. “And I need to know when you’re free so we can go to the witch lady and free us of this curse, but you’re being incredibly difficult.”

“I told you,” Patrick says standing up from his desk. “I’m not going to some witch lady to break our bond.”

“Why not,” David demands, stomping his foot like a child. 

“Because you aren’t even giving this a fair chance!” Patrick replies. “You don’t get to make decisions about this _without_ me David.”

David makes a frustrated noise from the back of his throat. “Then what do you suggest we do?”

“One week,” Patrick says stepping around his desk to stand in front of David. “Give me one week to prove to you that this is right.”

“One week,” David repeats. “Fine, I’ll give you one week, but only because I know you won’t need that long to see that this is a terrible idea,” David says. 

“I think I’m going to enjoy proving you wrong,” Patrick says leaning against his desk facing David.

David narrows his eyes at him and says, “We’ll see about that,” and leaves the office with a flourish. 

\\\\\

The week starts with a delivery of flowers. It’s a large [arrangement](https://www.avasflowers.net/product/birthday-flowers) of bright yellow daisies, red carnations, fresh green poms, and purple asters and is quite frankly the ugliest fucking thing he has ever seen. It’s loud and bright and way too colorful for his monochromatic lifestyle and David uses this as proof as to why he and Patrick will never work. 

He looks at the bouquet with disdain as it sits atop his kitchen table, looking far too cheerful for what he’s feeling in the moment. And with one last sniff, he goes about the rest of his day actively ignoring them, thinking about how he’s going to have to tell the buttoned up business man that his choice in floral arrangements are deeply incorrect. 

But in the afternoon as he’s preparing lunch for himself, he receives another [bouquet](https://urbanstems.com/products/flowers/the-emma/FLRL-B-00114.html?gclid=Cj0KCQjww_f2BRC-ARIsAP3zarHx0X3PoTba7hD1MbjQVKqUf4hfLSPuwcjN6CiDhLr5tb_bolVuHdIaAojzEALw_wcB) of flowers, this one slightly more subdued than the first. It’s a combination of peach roses, pink ranunculus, lisianthus, thistle, wax flowers, and seeded eucalyptus. It tracks a little bit better with his aesthetic, but it’s still a bit too colorful, too vibrant.

And it confuses him why he’s receiving another bouquet. It dawns on him that he hasn’t read either of the cards attached to the bouquets and reaches for the first one. 

_David, I hope you enjoy these flowers. The bright daisies symbolize excitement, which is what I felt when I first met you. -Patrick_

Excitement? For David? No, that can’t be right. 

David reaches for the second card as he tries to stamp down his beating heart. 

_David,_ _I’m sure you loved the first bouquet, but I offer these to you as the symbolize promise, a promise of going on this journey together. -Patrick_

David blinks quickly as he drops the cards onto his kitchen table and backs away from them. This, this is all too much. He turns around and quickly walks back to his bedroom, keeping distance between himself and the flowers. 

In the evening when a third is delivered, David thinks about just throwing them all away, but the last [bouquet](https://urbanstems.com/products/flowers/the-sonnet/FLRL-B-00069.html) is too beautiful to do that. 

_David, this is the last bouquet I gift with you today. These flowers remind me of you. I hope you like them. -Patrick_

And David does. It’s a stunning arrangement of white Eskimo and limonada Roses, lisianthus, white ranunculus, hypericum berries, Queen Anne's Lace, and green ruscus, simple and elegant and beautiful. And to think that Patrick thought of David when he saw this bouquet leaves him breathless. 

On his kitchen table in a row are all three bouquets, physical manifestations of Patrick’s intentions for David. And if the rest of the week is anything akin to this first day, David now knows he’s deeply in trouble. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being a lot longer than I thought. Woops!

Despite the fact that Patrick really hasn’t interacted with David all that much, he seems to just _know_ the things David likes, which in and of itself is terrifying. 

The second day David is delivered a box of gourmet chocolates from a chocolatier uptown, a delectable assortment of delicious squares of utter perfection in a beautiful black box. But that’s not what has David reeling. It’s the fact that they are delivered with a generic pack of sour gummy worms from the drugstore and a note that says, _I asked the shop to pick out the flavors based on my description of you. I hope they’re delicious. But I also threw in a pack of gummy worms just in case. I noticed a few empty packages of these when I came to visit your office. -Patrick_

And it’s terrifying because how _the fuck_ did Patrick notice such a minuscule detail like that?

It’s just too thoughtful, too _nice_ for David to really comprehend as he devours the entire box of chocolates and the gummy worms with a pout on his face. 

On the third day, a _teddy bear_ is delivered to his apartment and David is absolutely _appalled_. Every somewhat good feeling he had about Patrick is subsequently thrown out the window as he holds the doll at arms length. It’s a medium sized cretan with light brown fur and a blue t-shirt that reads, “ _I love you bear-y much_ ”. David is not amused.

_You look like the type of person who enjoys stuffed animals,_ the note that came with it said and that is just _so_ incorrect that fucker.

The offending creature sits atop his kitchen table just _staring_ at him with its beady little eyes and when Stevie comes over later that night, she laughs at him. 

“This isn’t funny,” David says annoyed as he unpacks the Thai food she brought over. 

“David this is _hilarious_ ,” Stevie says with a snicker. 

“I’m so glad you’re enjoying this while I’m being tortured,” David says with a sneer towards the bear. 

“Look, I think it speaks too,” Stevie says as she points to one of its furry paws with a sticker that says, “Press Me!”

“No, no, no, no, no,” David says reaching for the bear, but it’s too late, Stevie picks it up and presses down on the sticker and Mariah Carey’s voice garbles out of it. 

_You'll always be a part of me_

_I'm part of you indefinitely_

_Boy don't you know you can't escape me?_

_Ooh darling 'cause you'll always be my baby_

David makes a noise of indignation as Stevie stares down at the bear with amazement. “Oh my God. He got you a bear that sings Mariah Carey?”

“This can’t be happening,” David groans walking into his living room and sitting down on his couch, cradling his head with his hands, forgetting about the food which is big for David. 

“Do you think he had to get this special made? I mean because I sure as hell didn’t know that there were a line of pop diva teddy bears,” Stevie says sitting down on the couch next to him with the bear. “Are you freaking out because of the bear or are you freaking out because this guy seems to have you pretty much all figured out?”

“He does not have me _all figured out_ ,” David snaps. “I am an incredibly _abstruse_ person and he’s just been lucky is all.”

“Mhm,” Stevie hums, setting the bear on the coffee table in front of him. “Do you want me to pour you a glass of wine?”

“I would like you to open up a bottle and just hand it to me without the glass thank you so much,” David says staring at the bear. Stevie awkwardly pats him on the shoulder and leaves for his kitchen, the bear just fucking looking at him. 

With a shaky hand, he reaches out and squeezes its paw and tries not to barf as he listens to Mariah’s beautiful voice blare out of a fugly ass bear. 

\\\\\

On the fourth day, David thinks about just staying away from his apartment all day so that he doesn’t have to spend it with nervous anticipation of what is to be delivered. He takes a walk through Central Park, trying his best to not think about Patrick and his stupid gifts. Because what’s been the _most_ _infuriating_ is that Patrick hasn’t _once_ reached out to him other than through the little notes he leaves with them. 

Not one phone call, not one text message. And David is obviously not going to call him because that’s just never been his style, but _what the fuck Patrick, call me already._

He makes it about an hour of being outside before his curiosity gets to be too much and he just _has_ to go home and face the music. 

Waiting in his mailbox is a small cardboard box and David looks down at it disdainfully before grabbing it and heading up to his apartment. 

He places the box on his coffee table and just stares at it, afraid of what will be inside. But David has never been particularly good at ignoring his curiosity, so he opens the box and finds a long black velvet box inside. 

Oh God, it’s probably jewelry. 

If there is _anything_ that David is especially cautious of when it comes to gifts, it’s gifts that have to do with his style.

And truth be told, his obvious disdain has been somewhat performative really. Because David is just simply not used to this much careful attention on him and he can’t say that he really hates it. So part of him doesn’t want to have to disappoint Patrick when he finds out that David doesn’t like his gift. 

With a heavy sigh, David opens up the velvet box to rip off the proverbial bandaid and cautiously looks down. 

It’s a simple silver chain bracelet, much like the necklace he wears every day. He hastily reaches inside for the note which reads, _David, originally I was going to buy you a heart shaped locket with a photo of my face in it, but when I saw this bracelet at the jewelers, I just had to get it for you. I think it’ll match well with your necklace. -Patrick_

David carefully takes the bracelet out of its box and cradles it in his hands, rubbing his thumb against the metal. He wraps it around the wrist of his left hand just to see how it looks, liking how the cool metal feels against his skin, how it sits atop his mark. He doesn’t take it off for the rest of the day. 

\\\\\

On the fifth day, David finds a manilla envelope in his mailbox after his lunch date with Alexis. He throws it onto the coffee table as he settles back into his apartment, actively ignoring that it’s there because he’s feeling too eager to open it up. 

After changing into more comfortable clothing, David walks to the table and shifts through the rest of his mail, pretending like he isn’t drowning in anticipation. Once he’s done with that, he finally picks up the envelope and rips open the top, taking out a CD and the note. 

_David, music is incredibly important in my life and often times I use songs in order to express how I feel. I hope you enjoy the collection of songs I picked out for you. -Patrick._

A mixtape. Patrick fucking Brewer made him a mixtape. 

Out of all the gifts, this is the most personal to Patrick and David finds himself really hesitating on listening to it. He goes about cleaning his apartment, doing anything and everything to distract him from the CD, pretending like he’s simply too busy to sit down and listen to the music Patrick specially curated for him. 

At around midnight is when David caves and inserts the CD into his sound system, settling on his couch as _This Magic Moment_ by the Drifters begins to fill his apartment. And when that ends, _I Found a Reason_ by the Velvet Underground is next, followed by _When you are Smiling and Astride Me_ by Father John Misty, and then Joni Mitchell, and Mariah Carey, and Etta James and just so much music that it wraps David up like a blanket as he falls asleep on his couch as Dolly Parton’s _I Will Always Love You_ croons in his ears. 

\\\\\

On the sixth day, David doesn’t know what to expect anymore from Patrick. Flowers, chocolate, stuffed animals, jewelry, music, it seems as though he’s hit upon everything across the spectrum of gifts and David doesn’t try to fight off the curiosity anymore. Just like yesterday, his gift is found waiting in his mailbox in a manilla envelope. He doesn’t pretend to be nonchalant about it and opens it up first, throwing the rest of his mail down onto the coffee table. 

He pulls out various forms and packets and his eyes quickly scan over the words as his hands begin to shake. Incorporation forms. Small business starter packets. A guide to tax forms and applying for grants and spreadsheet templates of all kinds. 

David finds the note clipped on top of the incorporation forms, Patrick’s handwriting saying, _David, I meant what I said, you can make something beautiful. Please know that I will always be here whenever you’re ready to start again. -Patrick_

David doesn’t realize he’s crying until a tear drops down onto the paper, soaking through it. 

No one has ever believed in David like this perfect stranger has. And he does so emphatically and unequivocally. No one has ever seen David like this. No one has ever _known_ him like this.

He sits and looks through the papers well into the night, Patrick’s mixtape playing in the background as he fills out pages and pages into his notebook. 

\\\\\

David is embarrassed to admit that he’s disappointed when nothing shows up on the seventh day. No packages, no letters, no notes. 

He goes through the rest of his day in a daze, the emotionality of the week taking a toll on his body. Patrick hasn’t reached out to him once and David is worried his lack of response is the reason why. 

It’s just that, he’s really not used to this, someone taking time out of their day to make David feel special. He’s used to being the one to shower his partners with gifts, but never because he just wanted to be _nice_. It was always to desperately cling onto whatever fantasy David had created in his head, to keep out the loneliness. 

And the gifts Patrick picked out for him are simple but incredibly thoughtful. No one has ever gotten him flowers just because they thought of him. And certainly no one has ever made David a mixtape of intimate and romantic songs. And no one has believed in him enough to push him to open up a business like Patrick Brewer does. 

So David finds himself wanting more now. Not more gifts, more of Patrick just caring enough to know David and wanting to get to know him. And that’s terrifying.

At 6pm, David is pacing his apartment, debating with himself whether or not he should just bite the bullet and call Patrick when three sharp knocks break him out of his thoughts. 

David sucks in a harsh breath knowing that whatever is behind his front door is his final gift for the week and walks cautiously towards it, his heart racing in his chest. 

But when David opens the door, there is no package or flowers or disgusting stuffed animals. Behind the door is Patrick, wearing a navy blue blazer and looking so handsome David feels everything inside of him clenching tightly. Despite Patrick being a constant presence in his life this past week through his notes, they’re nothing in comparison to him standing right in front of him. David realizes alarmingly that he’s missed him. 

“Hi,” Patrick breathes out, a shy smile on his lips. “It’s the last day.”

“It is,” David says softly. “What are you going to bestow upon me today?” 

“Dinner,” Patrick replies. “I’m hoping you’ll join me for dinner.”

David looks into Patrick’s eyes, still so loud and so earnest and nods his head. “Let me change and we can go.”

The walk to the restaurant is quiet, Patrick’s hands shoved deep into his pockets and David’s crossed against his chest. There’s a slight chill in the air that bites at David’s skin, but the flush that’s traveling up and down his body is keeping him warm. 

It’s a short distance from his apartment and David is surprised when Patrick stops in front of a tiny storefront. “We’re here,” he says, opening the door for David. 

David walks inside and finds himself surrounded by floor to ceiling shelves made of warm oak with various items stocked right up to the edges. There’s black and white checkered tiling beneath his feet and seemingly hundreds of empty glass jars covering the counter on the left side of the store. 

“It’s a little Italian shop that I come to often,” Patrick murmurs from beside him. “At night they turn into a restaurant in the back with the best gnocchi you’ll ever have.”

“I love gnocchi,” David says before he can stop himself and the smile Patrick gives him is radiant. With a warm hand on his back, Patrick leads him through a door towards the back of the store into a room with mismatched tables and chairs and cheerful chatter. 

“Patrick,” a short woman says coming towards them. “Your table is all set. And this must be your handsome date?”

“He is,” Patrick says with a smile, David blushing from beside him. “Josephine, this is David.”

“Hello David,” Josephine says warmly. “Let me show you to your table.”

“This place is amazing,” David murmurs to Patrick as they walk towards the back of the restaurant, David admiring all of the lit candles and rustic charm. There are string lights hung from the ceiling and the walls are covered with black and white photos of all different sizes. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“It’s a hidden gem,” Patrick says. “I stumbled upon it a year ago. During the day when they operate as the store, you can smell their biscotti from blocks away.”

“Here we are gentlemen, best table in the house,” Josephine says. 

“Thank you,” Patrick says kissing her cheek as she swats against his arm. 

“Wine?” She asks as they settle into their seats. 

“Yes please, and two orders of your famous gnocchi,” Patrick says with a wink. 

Josephine chuckles and turns to David. “It’s my grandmother’s recipe. You’ll never have anything like them anywhere else.”

“I can believe it,” David says with a smile and Josephine preens before walking away. 

“So,” Patrick says laying his cloth napkin on his lap. “How was your week?” Patrick asks with a teasingly smirk and David rolls his eyes. 

“Exhausting,” David replies. “I never want anything delivered to my home ever again.”

Patrick chuckles and plays with the edge of the table. “I see you like the bracelet.”

David looks down at his wrist and adjusts it so that it lays perfectly flat against his soulmate mark. “I do, thank you. Thank you for all the gifts really, even though some of them were garishly unacceptable,” David says wrinkling his nose. 

“Which ones?” Patrick asks gleefully. “The teddy bear or the flowers?”

“You and Stevie get too much joy out of compromising my carefully curated aesthetic,” David replies flatly and Patrick laughs. 

“It’s all part of the fun, David,” Patrick replies and David shakes his head with a smile in despite of himself. “I just enjoy giving gifts.”

“And I enjoy receiving them,” David says with a playful smirk. “What has been your favorite gift that you’ve ever received?”

“That I’ve ever received?” Patrick repeats, leaning back in his chair to think. “My grandfather gave me a pocket watch when I was six that I used to bring with me everywhere. It was permanently stuck at 8:19 but I liked it that way and never got it fixed. I actually used it to argue staying up late at night whenever my parents tried to send me to bed. Just busted out the watch and said it wasn’t my bed time yet,” Patrick says with a sheepish grin. 

“That is really fucking cute,” David replies and likes the blush that settles onto Patrick’s cheeks. “Do you still have it?”  


“No,” Patrick says shaking his head. “I lost it during a road trip when I was 9. Fell out of my pocket while I was hiking with my parents. I’ve tried looking for a similar one, but no such luck,” Patrick says shrugging his shoulders. 

“What did it look like?” David asks curiously. 

“It was gold with a matching chain and vines etched on the cover,” Patrick replies. “I thought about having it specially made, but I just haven’t gotten around to doing it yet.”

They talk more about their childhoods, David skimming over the dark bits when they’re interrupted by two steaming plates of gnocchi.

And Patrick and Josephine are correct, the gnocchi is to _die for._ Soft, pillowy, melt-in-your-mouth potato clouds, covered in a pesto cream sauce that makes David think about licking the plate clean. 

“If you enjoyed that, you’re going to love dessert,” Patrick says as he watches David with a smile. 

David moans and says, “There’s dessert too? God, I don’t ever want to leave.”

Patrick chuckles, but it’s deep and raspy and when David looks up at him, he realizes his eyes have darkened as he watches David’s visceral reaction about dessert. “I think I can find a couple of reasons to take this back home.”

“Yeah?” David breathes out, his eyes flickering down to Patrick’s lips. 

But before anything can go on, two bowls of coffee gelato are placed in front of them, breaking David out of his spell for just a moment. The gelato is cold and creamy and rich with flavor, pieces of dark chocolate truffles adding a delicious textural contrast. After their bowls are wiped clean, they both kiss Josephine on the cheek on their way out. 

“Come back soon, boys,” she says with a wink, and David is pulled out of the shop by Patrick with a laugh, back out into the chilly night air. 

“Thank you,” David says as the stand on the sidewalk. “That was a really lovely dinner.”

“Of course, David,” Patrick says warmly. “Come on, let me walk you back to your apartment.”

The walk is quiet again, but there’s a hum on anticipation underneath David’s skin. 

This was a good date. A wonderful date, actually the best date he’s ever had. Talking to Patrick, when they’re not bickering about business, is easy. He’s charming and attentive and warm towards David. It’s kind of addicting to have someone who genuinely cares about what you’re saying. And David finds himself craving more of Patrick’s thoughts too. 

David’s eyes keep flickering to Patrick’s as they walk, noting how his eyebrows are pinched, his lips are drawn tight and his jaw in clenched. He’s nervous. He’s just as nervous as David. 

When they round the corner to David’s building, he finds himself not wanting the night to end. 

“W-would you um,” David stutters. “Would you like to come up for some tea?”

Patrick turns to him in shock before his face settles back into a warm smile. “Yes, I’d like that.”

The elevator ride is tense as David flexes his fingers to distract himself from reaching out and touching Patrick. When they get to his door, David’s hands fumble a little with his keys, David cursing under his breath as he tries three times to get the fucking thing into the lock while Patrick chuckles lowly from beside him. 

When he finally opens the door, he gestures Patrick inside, following behind him and flipping on all the lights. 

“Make yourself comfortable while I make the tea,” David says, awkwardly clearing his throat and making a beeline for the kitchen. 

It’s not until he opens up his cabinet that he realizes that he doesn’t actually have any tea. 

“Fuck,” David murmurs under his breath. “Um, Patrick? Can I interest you in something else instead? It looks like I’m out of tea-” David says as he turns around, but Patrick is right behind him and he loses all thought and breath. 

“I don’t actually want any tea,” Patrick says softly with a smile, his hands in his pockets looking bashful. 

“Oh, then what else can I get you?” David breathes out. 

“Anything you’re willing to give me,” Patrick replies, his eyes nervous but hot and David says fuck it in his head and reaches for his collar and pulls him in. 

The kiss is hard and desperate and frantic and _so fucking good._ Patrick leans into him, wrapping his arms around David’s waist, pulling him flush against his body, opening up his mouth for David to plunge through and take everything. 

It’s difficult, but David maneuvers them to the couch, not once detangling from Patrick, sliding his hands up behind Patrick’s neck and pulling him in deeper as they fall onto the couch. 

Patrick’s hand roam all over his body, up his sides, his arms, cradling his jaw and finally carding through David’s hair and pulling, David letting out a noise that would be embarrassing under normal circumstances, but not from underneath Patrick. 

His head is reeling and all of the anticipation from the week just explodes out of him as his head is consumed from just wanting to kiss Patrick like this forever. 

When they break away from each other, they’re breathing harshly in the tiny space between them, Patrick smiling so beautifully down at David. 

“See,” Patrick says smiling, running his fingers along David’s face. “This is a good idea. This is right. This is real.”

And with those words, reality crashes over David and the chill that runs through his body shuts him down. 

_This is real_.

But it’s not. None of this is real.

Patrick must notice something’s wrong because he immediately says, “David?” with a concerned look on his face. 

Patrick pulls back and David sits up, staring at Patrick as the sad reality of their life settles down into his bones. 

“This isn’t real,” David says quietly. 

“David?” Patrick asks. 

“This is just the curse talking,” David continues. “None of this is real. What you’re feeling isn’t real.”

Patrick’s jaw clenches. “It feels pretty fucking real to me.”

“But for how long?” David asks. “How long until you realize that everything you’re feeling is nothing but the curse manipulating these feelings inside of you.”

Patrick runs a hand through his hair. “It’s not a curse, David-”

“It is,” David says cutting him off. “This is just trickery. A terrible curse designed to give people a false sense of hope.”

Patrick is quiet from beside him. “You’re not going to change your mind, are you?” he asks tiredly. 

_I almost did. You almost had me believing in something good._

“No,” David replies and hates himself for it as he watches something break behind Patrick’s eyes. 

“Okay,” Patrick says softly. He stands up from the couch. “Let me know when you have an appointment booked,” he says without looking at David and leaves the apartment, closing the door softly behind him. 

\\\\\

The next available appointment is in two days when David calls. The witch is kind on the phone and reassures him that the ritual is short and painless. It doesn’t bring David any comfort. 

When he texts Patrick the details, his only response is _okay._

The flowers begin to wilt and David knows he should throw them out. But before disposing of them, he plucks one flower each from the bouquets and presses them into wax paper in between the pages of a thick book. He doesn’t know why he does it. 

The teddy bear is stuffed into the very back of his closet for an hour before David moves it carefully to the top shelf instead. The bracelet is placed back into its original jewelry box and then into the drawer of his nightstand, along with the mixtape. 

The incorporation papers are placed into the box that is filled with all the other things from his old office in the gallery, pushed into the corner of his office to be forgotten about. Not that David think that’s going to happen. You don’t meet someone like Patrick Brewer and expect to be able to just forget about him. 

Stevie is disappointed that it didn’t work out. “David, you can change your mind.”

“I don’t want to,” David says staring blankly ahead. “This is for the best.”

“He’s not going to give up on you,” Stevie replies and David shakes his head. 

“You didn’t see his face,” David says quietly, Patrick’s eyes seared into his memory forever. 

On the day of their appointment, David is pacing outside of the building, checking his phone for the time every few seconds. Patrick is running late and David is worried. Not worried about possibly losing their appointment, worried that this is Patrick’s way of trying once again to convince David this is isn’t the answer. 

But he doesn’t have to dwell much longer on it as Patrick is seen jogging up the street. 

“Sorry,” Patrick says once he catches up to David. “I had an appointment with a client run late.”

“That’s okay,” David says, ignoring the disappointment bubbling in his stomach. 

“Come in,” the kindly old witch says as she ushers the two of them into her tiny apartment. “My name is Vivienne, but you may call me Vivi,” she says with a smile and a thick French accent. 

“I must admit, I have not done one of these in many years,” she says as she leads them to her living room. “Are you sure you have thought carefully about this?”

David is about the respond when Patrick’s voice cuts through, “Yes, we’re sure.” And David does his best not to feel hurt by it. 

Vivi sighs sadly and says, “Very well, this will not take long. Please, stand here,” she says indicating to the middle of the room. “And now face each other.”

They turn to face each other, both of them unable to look one another in the eyes. 

“In order for this to work, I need you to keep eye contact, you cannot break away,” Vivi says, opening a drawer and pulling out a pair of golden shears. “Ready?”

David lifts up his head and stares at Patrick, sees the sadness in his eyes as a lump begins to form in his throat. They both nod and Vivi lifts up her hands and begins to murmur underneath her breath. 

“Lift your wrists,” Vivi says and they both raise them in the air. As she continues to say the incantation under her breath, a golden thread appears, wrapped around their wrists with a beautiful glow. 

“This cannot be undone,” she says softly. “Your marks will disappear the moment I snip your bond. Do you accept this to be true?”

David looks at Patrick, his eyes raking desperately over his face. He’s so handsome and David thinks he’ll miss his eyes the most. His loud and honest eyes. 

Part of him wants to say no. He wants to take all of this back and start over again with him. But David realizes in that moment that this isn’t about him anymore. This is about Patrick and making sure he gets everything he deserves. A chance to live freely, to love freely, to have someone love him back without fear. Someone who is worthy of him and his kindness. 

He deserves better than David Rose. 

“Yes,” David says softly and he finds it almost impossible to keep staring into Patrick’s eyes, watching them harden. 

And when Patrick says, “Yes,” too, David feels his heart cracking open.

_It’s okay,_ he thinks to himself. _It’ll stop hurting soon._

Vivi raises the shears and with a snip, the golden thread is broken and disappears, as if it were never there. 

David has thought about this moment, how it would feel to be free of this curse, to know that nothing is there to keep him trapped. He expected something explosive, some wild display of glowing colors bursting out of him, his soul being freed in the most fantastical way. 

But it’s anything but that.

He feels the same, including the crack in his heart. 

“It’s done?” David asks with confusion, turning to Vivi. Because this doesn’t feel right. 

“Yes, check your wrist,” she replies. 

David lifts up his wrist, expecting to see the familiar mark because David feels no different. But his eyes scan over perfectly clear skin, not even a shadow of the mark left. 

“Congrats David,” Patrick says softly and David raises his eyes to meet his. “You’re free,” Patrick says smiling gently at him, but it doesn’t feel like all the warms smiles he’s gotten used to. This one feels empty. 

And freedom doesn’t taste as sweet as he thought it would. 

\\\\\

David lays in bed for three days after his bond with Patrick is snipped off. Stevie brings him food and checks up on him because she is a good friend and he loves her. But David can’t seem to do much except mope. 

When he said goodbye to Patrick outside of Vivi’s apartment, he desperately wanted to ask him questions, ask him if he felt different, if he felt freer and happier, because David didn’t.

But no words were exchanged, just one last empty smile from Patrick before he turned and walked away from David. 

He doesn’t understand. He’s supposed to feel good. He isn’t supposed to be feeling anything towards Patrick. Cutting the bond was supposed to solve all of his problems. But instead he feels cold, empty. 

He’s about to doze off for his hundredth nap when his door is swings open and standing in front of him is his mother looking absolutely exquisite in Alexander McQueen. 

“Oh David,” she tsks at him. “What a truly disheartening sight.”

“Excuse me,” David hisses at her. “How the _fuck_ did you get in here?”

“I borrowed this from Stevie,” she says dangling a key in front of his face. “When I got word that the eldest of my brood was experiencing a rumbustious time, I just had to zip myself over to check up on you,” she says reaching down to cup his cheek with her hand. “Oh really, David, you must deal with your unruly appearance post haste.”

“Okay,” David says swatting her hand away and pushing the covers off of him. “You can wait in the living room while I make myself presentable for you.”

“Excellent darling,” she says striding out of his bedroom. “And please, don’t forget to tame that barbarous mane of yours.”

\\\\\

After doing the best that he could to look somewhat tolerable for his mother, David walks into his living room to find her pouring herself a generous glass of his favorite bottle of wine. 

“Oh, there he is!” She says, patting the seat next to her. “Please, sit David.”

David sits down and crosses his arms petulantly. “Why are you here?”

“I already divulged the reason for my visit, David,” she says handing him a glass. “I’m worried for you.”

“I’m fine,” David grunts as he accepts the glass. 

“My dear, you and I are gifted at spinning and molding the truth so we both know that you are anything but,” she says. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

David stares down at his glass. “I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I’m confused.”

“About what dear?” His mother probes gently. 

“Everything,” David replies with frustration. “My mark is gone. I broke my curse.”

“But?”

“But,” David says quietly. “Why do I still feel this way?”

“Oh, David,” his mother says laying a hand over his. “The soulmate bond doesn’t create love, it merely show you the way.”

“What?” David asks confused. “Yes it does, that’s the whole point of having a soulmate mark.”

“David,” his mother says patiently. “Our marks may guide us to the person who will nurture our souls, but that is not to say there is not labor that comes with it. Even things that are guaranteed require a copious amount of drudgery. Nothing comes easy.”

“But you and dad-” David says but his mother swiftly cuts him off.

“Your father and I have had to work too, years of building trust. Honestly David, love doesn’t sprout from thin air! It is grown with time and care,” she says. “You command your feelings.”

David turns to look at his mother with surprise, her words knocking his thoughts around. And he wants to deny it and say no, the bond created a false reality, a trick. 

But David can’t seem to bring himself to believe these words as strongly as he once did. Because when he thinks back to the moment when Vivienne snipped the golden thread that kept him and Patrick linked, the earth didn’t shift beneath his feet and he didn’t feel his soul burst out with freedom.

He felt no different until Patrick looked up and gave him that empty smile. And David now realizes that the cold that’s been following him, consuming him, is regret. Profound and agonizing regret. 

“It wasn’t the curse,” David whispers to himself miserably. “Oh _God_ , it wasn’t the curse that made these feelings.”

“You have endured much pain in your life,” his mother says, brushing his hair back. “I regret notbeing better at shielding you away from it. But I’m here now to help you through this grievous time.”

David feels his eyes fill with tears, hastily wiping them away. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You move forward,” his mother says. “Wine and your family will help you,” she says patting his cheek. “There will come a day when your heart has been rejuvenated. But for now, you must do the work to get there, it won’t come on its own.”

“What am I supposed to do,” David says with a sigh, wiping his eyes. “I don’t have a career to distract myself with.”

“But you have ideas, an abundance of them! Come now David, surely there must be something in your horizon that elicits some passion inside of you.”

David sucks in a deep breath and nods his head. “There is something.”

\\\\\

David doesn’t know what made him think coming here was a good idea, but he’s standing outside of Patrick’s office anyway, a tote bag filled with his idea latched onto his shoulder. 

Even though they’re no longer soulmates, that doesn’t mean they can’t be cordial, right? That doesn’t mean Patrick can’t help him and God, David needs his help. 

So with bated breath, his raps on the door thrice, clenching his fists when he hears Patrick call out, “Come in!”

He opens the door thinking he’s prepared to face Patrick. But he realizes very quickly he is in fact not prepared at all and immediately regrets every decision he’s made that has gotten him thus far in his life. 

And Patrick’s face doesn’t help the situation because he’s still so handsome, even as it opens up with shock before settling into indifference. “David Rose,” he says flatly. “What can I do for you?”

“I uh,” David stutters. “D-Do you have a moment to talk?”

Patrick nods his head stiffly and gestures to the chair in front of him. “I have 10 minutes before my next appointment.”

David sits down on the seat awkwardly, pulling at his fingers. “Sorry, I would have called to make an appointment, but I didn’t think you would have said yes if I’m being perfectly honest.”

“Despite our rather stirring history, I make sure to be professional at my place of business, David,” Patrick replies evenly. “What can I do for you?”

David bites his lip and blurts out, “You said you would help me whenever I was ready to start again.”

“Yes, I remember,” Patrick replies surprised at David’s outburst. 

“I’m ready to start over again,” David says more gently. “Can you help me?”

Patrick stares at David steadily making him shift uncomfortably in his seat underneath Patrick’s gaze. 

“Yes,” he says softly. “I’ll help you.”

\\\\\

They start off meeting once a week in Patrick’s office trying to piece together David’s idea of selling locally crafted items on consignment under the brand of one store. It’s incredibly sustainable according to Patrick, as long as David is willing to put in the work. Which he is, because he wants this. 

His biggest obstacle is finding a location for the store, rent prices in New York City growing rapidly. Also he has a lot of competition, hundreds of specialty stores just littered around the city.

His answer comes from Stevie one night while watching the _Great British Bake-Off_ on his TV. 

“You’re moving?” David asks wildly, perturbed by how casually Stevie drops this new bit of information. 

“My great aunt died and left me the family’s motel,” Stevie says with a shrug. “It’s not far from here, just 2 hours away. Since you’ve left me unemployed, might as well go and try and run the place.”

“You have zero hospitality skills,” David replies. “What am I going to do?”

“You can come with me,” Stevie says nonchalantly, but underneath it David can detect some nervousness. Because here’s the thing about being best friend’s with someone who is so like you: there’s very little, if anything you can hide from them, including tone.

“Leave New York?” David asks. 

“Start over,” Stevie replies. “Rent is cheap. You can open up your store there. And people will want to buy your products since they can’t always travel here.”

They don’t talk about it for the rest of the night, but David can’t stop thinking about it. 

_Start over._

Yes, start over. 

\\\\\

When he tells Patrick during their next meeting, he’s shocked. “You’re moving?”

“Yes,” David says nodding his head. “I contacted the town’s realtor and there’s a space that’s currently available for leasing. And I did some research on the market over there and there’s a demand for quality skin care items that are easily sourced here in the city. Couple it with some products from local vendors over there and I can fill in a gap that no one else is filling.”

Patrick leans back in his chair and clasps his hands together, regarding David carefully. “You’ve thought a lot about this.”

“I want to do this right. But, what do you think?” David asks nervously. 

Patrick purses his lips and for the first time in weeks, his lips twitch upwards, a ghost of a familiar smile he’s realizing that he’s desperately missed. “I think you’ve found your store.”

\\\\\

It’s a lot of work. More work than the gallery, and that’s because David really didn’t do that much at the gallery. Kind of threw money every which way to solve his problems. 

He continues to meet with Patrick who continues to consult him on his business. And David tries his best not to notice how many more smiles he gets from Patrick the more and more he sees him. 

And for every one of their meetings, David will bring Patrick something. A cup of his favorite tea, a new box of his favorite pens when he notices Patrick is running low, a brown paper bag full of Josephine’s cranberry and almond biscotti. Everything he brings is based off of something new he’s learned about Patrick over the last few weeks because he can’t help but pay attention to anything in relation to Patrick.

And part of it is to make up for all of the gifts Patrick gave him, but part of it is to also let Patrick experience how David felt to be seen by him and to give him some of that feeling back. Because despite everything that’s happened between them, he can take that feeling everywhere he goes now and Patrick deserves that too. 

Stevie moves to Schitt’s Creek (he still can’t believe that’s what the town is called) and settles there first, the excitement of running her own business evident from the tone of her own voice. 

“A dude with a parrot just booked a room,” she tells him over FaceTime one night. “He asked that I keep his stay here quiet and guess what he gave me,” she says showing him an incredibly large blunt. “I fucking love it here.”

David begins making the long trip out there to meet with the local vendors to source his products. And during particularly long trips, Stevie lets him stay at the motel for free, although he finds it hard to feel grateful due to the mysterious stain on the ceiling that stares back at him at night.

During one of his visits when he comes in contact with a disgusting bug with a milky exoskeleton, David calls his father and demands he help Stevie. 

“Dad, please help her,” David says as he stares at the offending creature that is currently trapped underneath a glass. “You’re basically retired. Aren’t you bored?”

He is and Mr. Rose makes a trip out to Schitt’s Creek and helps Stevie revitalize the roadside motel to something more decent. 

But despite getting used to the frequent trips, David knows sooner or later he’s going to have to make his move there. He just can’t bring himself to do it just yet. 

“The price of rent there is almost nonexistent in comparison to New York,” David tells Patrick during a lunch meeting. “I can get half a house if I wanted to.”

Patrick chuckles as he spears a potsticker with one of his chopsticks. “You might need an entire house for all of your sweaters.”

“For your information my collection of sweaters has dwindled significantly,” David says with a huff. “Between spending all of my life savings on building this business and just not having any time at all to go shopping, I’ve been reduced to a small collection of limited edition pieces.”

“Of course David,” Patrick says with a smile and David smiles back in spite of himself. 

Things between them aren’t the best, but they’re better. And getting better with every passing day. Because despite their bond being broken, David doesn’t think he can’t not have Patrick in his life in some capacity. And although his feelings for Patrick only growing deeper, he’ll take what he can get from him, because David knows he doesn’t deserve much from Patrick anyway. So if it’s just this for the rest of his life, passing a carton of potstickers from Patrick’s favorite restaurant between them in his tiny office, so be it. 

\\\\\

David visits Patrick on a day he doesn’t have an appointment because he was able to secure an exclusive deal with a cheese vendor and he just couldn’t wait to tell him. He also found something that he knows Patrick will be excited about. It’s towards the end of his work day, so David knows that Patrick doesn’t have any clients left, using the last hour before he goes home to organize his files and client list. David’s hoping to convince Patrick to go get some ramen with him. 

He opens the door without knocking, having gotten used to just walking in during the last couple of weeks. “Guess who has a lot of goat cheese in their future-” David says before stopping short at the sight before him. 

Patrick is sitting on top of his desk, his legs spread open and a man standing between them, cradling his head and kissing him deeply before ripping away at the sound of David’s voice. 

David thinks he’s fainting for a moment because he suddenly can’t breathe and he can’t hear and his eyes flick wildly back and forth between the two men. “I-I’m so sorry-”

“David, it’s fine,” Patrick says standing up from his desk. “Andrew was just leaving.”

Andrew nods his head and kisses Patrick on the cheek. “I’ll call you later tonight,” he says before nodding towards David and slipping out the door and closing it behind him. 

It’s quiet. So quiet that David can hear the blood rushing through him, his heart beating against his chest. 

Patrick doesn’t look at him as he begins to rearrange the papers on his desk, everything haphazard from where Patrick was just sitting. 

“I should have called,” David says. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you and your boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” Patrick says looking up in shock. “Andrew isn’t my boyfriend.”

“Oh,” David says weakly. “Sorry, I mean, based on your intimate positioning I just assumed,” David says looking away, swallowing hard. 

“Andrew is just a casual thing,” Patrick responds. “One of the guys I’ve been seeing,” he says with a casual wave of his hand. 

“One of?” David blurts out.

Patrick cocks an eyebrow at him and stops shuffling papers, walking around the lean on the front of his desk. “Yes, David. One of. As in one of the multiple men I’ve been seeing.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that,” David says with a wince. “I-I’m glad that you’re dating,” he says even as something rolls around in his gut making him nauseous.

“It’s been fun,” Patrick says shrugging his shoulders. “It’s been casual and simple and it’ll be interesting to find someone without being tied to the curse.”

_Curse_ , David thinks to himself, the pain of the word striking through him sharply. _Oh, so this is how it feels._

“It’s been kind of liberating actually. Stress free. And all the men I meet know about how I don’t have a mark anymore so it’s been nice to just date around with no strings attached. And later down the road, I know it’ll be hard to find someone, but maybe there’s someone else out there who decided to sever themselves from the curse too-”

“It’s not a curse,” David blurts out, clapping a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide with shock. 

_Fuck._

Patrick stills, his eyes open and wide and staring at David like he just grew another head. 

“Excuse me?” he asks confused. 

David opens his mouth to backtrack, change the subject or maybe even just run away because _what the fuck was that_? But Patrick’s eyes are too earnest, too focused on David for him to shut down. 

And fuck it because he’s moving away and Patrick has clearly moved on. He can’t pretend anymore. He can’t pretend like he hasn’t been walking around like he’s been in a dream since their bond was broken. He can’t pretend like Patrick hasn’t been the reason that’s been stalling him from moving away. He can’t pretend like he isn’t completely and totally in love with Patrick. 

Because he knows now without a shadow of a doubt that the bond didn’t make David fall in love with Patrick. He did so on his own.

David clears his throat, “It’s not a curse,” he repeats again, with a little more force, but his voice still trembles. 

Patrick crosses his arms and cocks his head at him. “What’s not a curse?”

“Having a soulmate,” David replies and Patrick lets out a harsh laugh. 

“You were the one who kept saying that having a soulmate was a trap, a cruel trick from the universe. A terrible curse designed to give people a false sense of hope,” Patrick says, repeating David’s cruel words with a bitter tone. 

David swallows thickly and turns away, playing with the cuffs of his sweater, his thumb rubbing into the space that used to have his mark. “I was wrong.”

“David,” Patrick says carefully from behind him. “If it’s not a curse then what is it?”

David closes his eyes, squeezing them shut tightly, the blood rushing into his head as the thoughts inside his head begin to collide. 

_A lie. A trick. A ruse._

_A gift,_ his mother once said. 

“A gift,” David says looking up at Patrick, his soul shaking. “It’s a gift.”

Patrick’s eyes widen. “But you said-”

“I know what I said,” David says. “And I was wrong,” David says with a tearful laugh. “God, I was so wrong.” 

Patrick is staring at him opening, his mouth ajar, his eyes wide and David loves him. 

“I thought breaking the tie would protect me from getting hurt, but I ended up hurting myself. And I hurt you too and you don’t know how much I regret that,” David says. Patrick looks away, crossing his arms tighter across his chest. 

“I thought the marks were just tricks, a distraction from the truth,” David continues. “But I realize now that I felt that way because I was just too afraid to accept the truth.”

“And what was the truth?” Patrick asks hoarsely. 

“That it was real,” David admits. “It was real and it was a gift.”

His mother’s voice echoes inside of his head and he repeats, “A gift of knowing that there is someone out there who sees you for all that you are.”

David grabs his tote bag and reaches in for the gift he was going to give Patrick today. He’s been searching for it for weeks and of course he found it by some miracle at a roadside antique shop in a dusty case on his way back from Schitt’s Creek. The excitement he originally felt when finding it is now replaced with sorrow in knowing that this is the last gift he’ll ever give to Patrick. He places the black velvet box on his desk and takes a step back. 

David feels like hiding, feels too open and vulnerable, but if this is the last time he ever sees him, Patrick deserves an apology too.

“Knowing you, being _known_ by you, has been a gift and I’m sorry I told you otherwise,” David says softly.

Patrick doesn’t say anything and continues to look away from David which is fine. He doesn’t think he can handle Patrick’s eyes right now. 

“But hey, it all worked out in the end, severing the tie has clearly worked for you and now you’re free to date whoever you want, just like you have been,” David says backing away. “And since I’m just about ready to open the store, I won’t have to bother you anymore with my severe lack of business knowledge,” David says with a humorless laugh.

“David,” Patrick says looking up and David quickly looks away, unable to look at his eyes. 

“I’ll be okay,” David says reaching for the door. “I promise, I’ll be okay.” And David slips out before Patrick can say anything else. 

\\\\\

He moves to Schitt’s Creek three days later, leaving his life in New York behind him. He thought he would be more sad about it, but there’s nothing there that makes him want to stay anymore anyway. Because Patrick was right all those weeks ago; he let people walk all over him in hopes of keeping their friendship. So there’s nothing left in New York. No more loud eyes and warm smiles. 

_There will come a day when your heart has been rejuvenated,_ his mother told him. _But for now, you must do the work to get there, it won’t come on its own._

Stevie helps him clean up the store and move furniture in exchange for a couple of bottles of wine. She also introduces him to the rest of the residents of Schitt’s Creek, David doing his best to limit his grimaces to about 5 per day. 

When word gets out about Rose Apothecary opening in just a few short weeks, he’s both excited and terrified by the buzz it receives. 

“There’s not much excitement in the area so your store opening is beating out bass fishing,” Stevie tells him during dinner at the town’s only restaurant. 

His family is supportive in their own unique ways, his father trying to instill unwanted business advice, his mother throwing every variation of the word “excitement” his way, and Alexis asking him to set aside various products for her as the store’s self-appointed tester. 

It’s tiring doing it on his own, but it’s the kind of tired that makes him welcome the achy bones and long nights of little sleep. Because it’s earned. He earned it. 

His shipment of body milk arrives during a stormy day and he huddles inside the store, carefully placing the labels onto each bottle. Stevie was supposed to help him, but due to his father’s help, the motel has seen an increase in guest capacity, so he here’s on his own for the day. 

But he has company with Elton John’s voice, Patrick’s mixtape playing lowly in the background as he works. 

He thought about getting rid of all of Patrick’s gifts, but David decided to keep them all as reminder that just for a moment, there was someone who saw him for who he was and wanted to stay. David was the one to push him away in the end, but he can pretend like he didn’t for just a while. Just until his heart heals. 

Distracted by his thoughts of Patrick like he usually is when he’s alone in the store, David places a label crookedly, cursing under his breath as he rips it off to place a new one on. 

As he’s cleaning the bottle of the old adhesive, he hears the bell above the door chime. “I thought you weren’t free until 7,” David says. 

“Uh, I didn’t think I was expected,” a voice says from the front of the store and David eyes snap up as he takes in the sight of Patrick Brewer folding up a wet umbrella. 

David blinks at him dumbly, convinced that he’s dreaming. “Oh my God.”

Patrick places the umbrella down by the door and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” David asks, slowing putting the body milk down. 

Patrick shrugs his shoulders and looks around the store. “I wanted to see it for myself.” He walks around slowly, taking in the space, picking up bottles and products and admiring the labels. “It looks great in here, David,” Patrick says earnestly and David clears his throat. 

“Thank you,” he says, nervously tugging down the sleeve of his sweater to hide his bracelet. 

“You got all your contracts?” Patrick asks picking up a tube of sunscreen. 

“All except one,” David replies. “I have a meeting with the vendor tomorrow morning.”

“And you’ve been keeping track of your expense sheet?”

“Yes,” David says nodding his head. “Everything is up to date.”

“And you got the insurance?”

“Fuck,” David says, suddenly remembering that he did not in fact finish filing for the store’s insurance. “I have to do that tomorrow. I knew I was forgetting something,” David says murmuring to himself, looking around frantically for his pen and notebook. 

“Fuck, I have to call the electrician too,” David says opening up his notebook, still looking for his pen. “Imagine opening a store with no lights.”

“David,” Patrick says gently beside him, but David ignores him, too consumed by all the things he suddenly has to do that he’s forgotten about. 

“I need to order new labels for the lip balms too, the font is too large, and I need to ask Mrs. Han if she can make more jars of her raspberry jam, and dammit where is my fucking pen-”

“David,” Patrick says his name again, loud enough that it stops David from moving. He looks at Patrick and sees that he’s holding David’s pen and David takes it gently from his hand. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs softly. “You’re probably thinking to yourself how I’ve managed to last this long on my own.”

“Actually I’m thinking about how you’ll never open this store unless you stop beating yourself up about everything,” Patrick replies back sharply and David looks up at him with surprise. Patrick has a fierce look on his face that settles into something softer. “David, you got this. You’re more than capable of running this store.”

David looks away and plays with the pen. “What are you doing here, Patrick?” David asks tiredly. 

“I had to see you,” Patrick replies. “We didn’t leave things off in a good place.”

“No,” David says with a bitter laugh. “No we did not,” he says putting down the pen and turning to face Patrick. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need you to listen to me,” Patrick says. “Just, let me talk. And don’t run away until I’m done,” Patrick says with a pointed look and David crosses his arms against his chest. 

“That day in my office,” Patrick begins. “You, you said a lot of things that left me so confused. David, you don’t know how difficult it’s been for me,” Patrick says shaking his head. “I was in a constant state of being angry at you, but wanting you near. And just when I was beginning to be okay being around you again, you turn around tell me our bond wasn’t a curse? I didn’t know what to think anymore,” Patrick says with frustration. 

David’s eyes begin to tear up and he so desperately wants to run away. But he owes this much to Patrick. 

“I thought I could convince you to believe in us, to believe in me. I tried so fucking hard and I thought we were so close, but then when you told me it wasn’t real that night, that none of it was real,” Patrick says taking a shuddering breath. “I couldn’t do it anymore, I couldn’t be selfish,” Patrick says with a distant look on his face and David feels like he’s crumbling, wants to tell him that _he_ was the one being selfish. 

“I would have spent the rest of my life fighting for you, but I didn’t want to stand in the way of your freedom. If I couldn’t make you happy, the least I could do was make sure you found it elsewhere."

_You made me happy. You made me so happy. No one else has ever made me happy,_ David thinks to himself desperately. 

“And I was angry. Angry that it didn’t work out, angry that I couldn’t keep you, and you called our tie a curse so many times, I had no other choice but to believe you. I was convinced that maybe it was for the best to move on from this, from us. And I guess a part of me was relieved that at least there was an escape clause, something that would rid me of these feelings I had for you,” Patrick says rubbing his face.

David nods his head, unable to say anything, not wanting to say anything really. 

“But, fuck David,” Patrick says roughly. “Nothing changed.”

David snaps his head up and looks at Patrick in shock. “What?” He asks raggedly. 

“Nothing changed,” Patrick says frustratedly. “My feelings for you didn’t disappear, I didn’t feel any different. But I tried to move on anyway, because I thought I was never going to get you back and then you walk into my office, ask for my help to start this business, bring me fucking biscotti and pens. And then you give me this,” Patrick says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the golden pocket watch that David had gifted him the last time they saw each other. 

It’s definitely not the one he lost, but it’s similar. A gold pocket watch with a matching chain and vines etched on the cover. 

“You found me something I’ve been looking for. How am I supposed to move on from you now?” Patrick asks desperately. 

David shakes his head because everything is too much, he feels too much. He takes a step back, but Patrick reaches for him, grabbing onto his arms stopping him. 

“I was with the same woman since high school up until our marks showed up. We kept breaking up and getting back together because we were convinced that we would have the same mark, even though I didn’t feel completely right, even though I felt like I was missing a piece of myself. We even share the same birthday, so when we both turned 25 and our marks were different, David I felt _relieved_. I felt free knowing that there was someone out there for me that would make me feel complete, that I didn’t have to spend my life feeling _empty_. I couldn’t wait to find you. But then _you_ found _me_ ,” Patrick says looking at David with a watery smile. “ _You found me_. David Rose, who had no idea how to run a business, who left passive aggressive voicemails, who wore sweaters in the dead of summer, came to my office for help and everything changed.”

David laughs, but it’s wet and his voice is soaked with his tears and Patrick keeps smiling at him.

“You kept saying our bond was a curse, that what I felt for you wasn’t real. But David it was, all of it was real, _is_ real. Because the moment you walked into my office that first time, I knew,” Patrick says. “Before the marks I knew that you were going to change my life.”

Patrick looks down at his hands that are clutching David’s arms, to the wrist where his mark used to be. “Our bond didn’t force me into falling in love with you David. Mark or no mark, I feel right when I’m with you,” Patrick says looking up at him, with his too honest eyes and David lets out a sob. “You make me feel right, David. And that will never change.”

“ _Patrick_ ,” David says reaching for him, Patrick’s hands coming up to cradle his face. 

“Please,” Patrick says rubbing David’s cheekbones with his thumbs. “Please, tell me it’s not just me,” he pleads. 

“It’s not,” David says, tears in his eyes. “Nothing changed for me either. I love you too.”

And when Patrick kisses him, it feels like nothing he’s ever felt before, like he’s weightless and flying through clouds, like he’s being consumed by an eternal flame as Patrick’s hands hold his head so gently, like he’s precious and delicate and something that is to be treasured. And it’s better than their first kiss because David lets go and lets himself want it, lets himself believe that yes, he deserves this. And that earth shattering moment of realization that he’s always wanted is nothing in comparison to this, because it’s real and because it’s Patrick who helped him get there. 

They kiss through their tears, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, laughing at their mutual relief, laughing until Patrick pulls him away from the tables, leading them in a dance around the store as Tina sings and the rain patters against the windows. 

\\\\\

The store opens a month later and despite the miscommunication in regards to whether or not it is a hard or soft launch, the community shows up in support and David is aglow with pride. His family shows up as well, walking around the store with quiet awe, his father clapping him on the shoulder, his mother kissing his cheek, and Alexis booping him on the nose. 

And every now and then, he’ll catch Patrick’s eye as he rings up customers, a secret look shared between them that no one else catches. 

The marks never reappear on their skin, not that either David or Patrick need them to. They know their souls will be tied together forever, mark or no mark, but it doesn’t mean they don’t have to work for it, for each other. Because it serves as a reminder that even things that are guaranteed need work. And when Patrick looks at him with his too loud eyes and his warm smile, David is willing to work as hard as he can to make sure he keeps it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this story! As always, comments and kudos feed writers.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, kudos and comments are much appreciated
> 
> I'm on tumblr! maybewecandreamalittle


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